I stood on the scales this morning. I didn’t
lose any weight this week. Mind you I didn’t put anything on, so it wasn’t all
bad.
I scoffed a bowl of granola, then had a look at
the Internet as I do. Not much had happened really; coronageddon had prompted
one or two jokey memes, each of which had been reposted a dozen times.
I checked my emails and saw I had yet another
spamming email ostensibly from the chap who took over running Teston kite
festival. This chap’s email account gets hacked at least once every week; you’d
think he’d do something about it… but looking back at what was effectively the
demise of one of the best events in the social calendar I’m not surprised he
hasn’t really.
The numero uno honcho at Sainsburys had emailed
me to tell me that they were changing their opening hours and will only be open
from eight in the morning till eight in the evening during the crisis. That’s
something of a pain the glass for me (as "Stormageddon - Bringer of
Destruction TM" would say). I wonder if they really are
doing this because of staff shortages, or if coronageddon will be used by the
supermarkets as a means to get away from being constantly open? Do they really
make that much money being open at four o’clock in the morning?
I sent out some birthday wishes to friends (the
ones whose birthday was today obviously!) then got ready for the off. There
are those who feel that the current nationwide directive to “self-isolate”
means to stay at home. We can effectively avoid the masses by going for a walk
in the countryside.
We drove out to Barham where the local shop had
bread (can you believe it?). We were soon joined by Karl, Tracey and all
of the girls. They had been to the farm shop up the road and had got us some
mince (that stuff is like gold dust!) and some turnips for the dogs (all
vegetables are in short supply).
We then had a rather good walk around the area
following well-marked paths and some rather quiet lanes. Barham is rather
beautiful; we’d been there before. As we walked today we
met sheep who were probably in the wrong field, we saw buzzards flying in the
sky, we played in the fords. The water in the fords was flowing at a very
impressive rate. There was a rather dodgy hole we had to avoid at one point
where a tree had collapsed; Fudge nearly fell down it.
As is usually the case our route was guided by
a series of geocaches. A rather excellent series. It was a shame that the
people who’d walked the series yesterday didn’t quite understand how to put the
paper logs back inside the plastic pots properly, but we sorted it all out.
Usually we’d end our walk with a pint in the
pub, but the Prime Minster has asked all the nation’s pubs to close because of
coronageddon, so we took some beer with us, and had a couple of crafty pints
whilst out. One as we walked, and one with a snack.
And I
took a few photos as well…
We said our goodbyes; as we drove home we
listened to Steve broadcasting on the radio. You can’t beat a bit of the
electric light orchestra on the way home.
Once home we unpacked, and it wasn’t long before the dogs
were all snoring. "er indoors TM" set off to visit "Daddy’s
Little Angel TM" and "Stormageddon - Bringer of
Destruction TM". I went out to the garden and harvested so
much dog dung that I blocked the chodbin. It was nothing that a few buckets of
water and some frantic chivvying with a trowel couldn’t shift, but next time I
won’t put quite so much dog dung down the loo in one go.
Feeling rather peckish I got myself some KFC. Walking to
the KFC was odd. Our road is the main thoroughfare from central Ashford to the
southern parts of the town. There are always people walking up and down it at
all times of day and night. At four o’clock this afternoon there was no one. No
one at all.
I got my KFC and scoffed it whilst watching “The Adventures of a Plumber in Outer Space” which was one of the
funniest things I’ve seen on telly for years. It was a cheesy, low budget,
frankly crappy film, but if you were brought up on “The Benny Hill Show”
(like I was), you’ll love it.
With the dogs fed I then spent the evening
ironing shirts whilst watching a film. “Ender’s Game”
is rather good, but (like most films) it would be better if it was half
an hour shorter.
The washing machine has just finished its third
load, and it is refusing to open its door… this could be entertaining…
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